The man looked closely at Anna as she crossed the footway, and as he held her skirt from the wheel he pressed something into her hand. In Old Palace Yard everybody ran. She had heard of women journalists, women writers, and so forth; but she was not even admitted to the presence of the editors she demanded to see, and by no means sure that if she had been she could have done any work they might have given her. "Your assistants are in my power. “It is an annoyance, my friend,” she said, “not a tragedy.
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